


Only An Arm's Length

by MiaGhost



Series: Missed Opportunities [6]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fear, M/M, Panic, Protective!Thomas, Protectiveness, Re-writes, Short, Spoilers, griever, newtmas moment, threat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaGhost/pseuds/MiaGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Griever is right outside the window, and Gally's going to get them killed. End of Chapter 39.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only An Arm's Length

"No!" Newt yelled, running forward. Thomas followed to help, in utter disbelief at what was happening.

Gally ripped off the second board just as Newt reached him. He swung it backwards with both hands and connected with Newt's head, sent him sprawling across the bed as a small spray of blood sprinkled the sheets. Thomas pulled up short, readying himself for a fight. He forced himself not to look at his friend, afraid that if he did he'd get them into worse trouble.

"Gally!" Thomas yelled. "What're you _doing_?"

The boy spat on the ground, panting like a winded dog.

"You shut your shuck-face, _Thomas_. You shut up! I know who you are, but i don't care any more. I can only do what's right."

Thomas felt as if his feet were rooted to the ground. He was completely baffled by what Gally was saying, and a rising fear for Newt's safety was threatening to incapacitate him. He watched the boy reach back and rip loose the final wooden board. The instant the discarded slab hit the floor of the room, the glass of the window exploded inwards like a swarm of crystal wasps.

Thomas covered his face and fell to the floor, kicking his legs out to scoot his body as far away as possible. When he bumped into the bed, he gathered himself and looked up, ready to face his world coming to an end.

A Griever's pulsating, bulbous body had squirmed halfway through the destroyed window, metallic arms with pincers snapping and clawing in all directions. Thomas was so terrified, he barely registered that everyone else in the room had fled to the hallway - all except Newt, who lay unconscious on the bed.

Frozen, Thomas watched as one of the Griever's long arms reached for the lifeless body, stopping Thomas's heart on a pin's edge. That was all it took to break him from his fear. He scrambled to his feet, searched the floor around him for a weapon, heart beginning to pound painfully against his ribcage.

All he could see were knives - they couldn't help him now. Panic exploded within him, consumed him. He backed as far away as he could, the low wooden side of the cot cutting into the backs of his shins. He gasped for breath. It felt as if the air in the room was getting heavier, his lungs having to work twice as hard, three times. The Griever arm paused, rotating as though scrutinising him, watching him, analysing him. He shifted, making sure to keep his body a barrier between the awful metal threat and Newt. He swallowed around the panic in his throat.

"Newt-" he croaked out, his voice cracking in panic. The adrenaline rushing hard through his system was making him feel woozy, light-headed. He wavered a little, trying desperately to keep himself upright. There was a hard ache in his gut that begged him to look back at Newt, but he knew if he did it would be his undoing.

"Newt, _please_! Wake up, man! Wake up! You gotta- You gotta _get up NOW_!"

His face was wet. He couldn't feel the tears but he could feel that his cheeks were wet. He was on the cusp of hyperventilating. The Griever arm began to advance again, and his pulse kicked up another notch, his skin feeling tight all over. He was going to blow a fuse any minute.

His heart vibrated in his chest, fuelled by fear and the dark, cloying knowledge that the Griever was going to get them. He was fully prepared to hold it off, away from Newt but what good would that do if his friend didn't get out of the way _right shucking now_?

"Newt!" he sobbed, wanting desperately to see the boy he cared so deeply for, "Newt, if you're gonna move do it right now! Man _Move!"_

His voice was gone then, words a vague garbled sound in his throat as he felt them merge into a scream. He clamped his teeth together to shut it off, his eyes locked in a death-stare with the glinting metal arm that was heralding his demise.

Then Gally was speaking again; the Griever pulled back its arm, as if it needed the thing to be able to observe and listen. But its body kept churning, trying to squeeze its way inside. Thomas took a breath as though re-learning how.


End file.
